Antimony
by lovetowritetoo
Summary: Story: The CBI is struck from within when several people mysteriously die. The team has to battle against time to prevent more deaths … including their own. No spoilers. Type: Angst/Crime/Hurt/Comfort/Friendship All lead characters are present for duty. The story takes place before season 6.
1. Chapter 1

**Antimony**

Story: The CBI is struck from within when several people mysteriously die. The team has to battle against time to prevent more deaths … including their own.

Spoilers: there are no spoilers referring to episodes of The Mentalist, there are however some references to Red John (even though it's not a Red John story). The story takes place somewhere before season 6 with Bertram as CBI-director.

Type: Angst/Crime/Hurt/Comfort/Friendship

All lead characters are present for duty.

**Antimony**

**Chapter One **

Janet Gray, Private Secretary to Gale Bertram, Head of the CBI, dropped dead on a bright and beautiful Monday morning, at exactly 8.14 a.m.

She had come into the office at 8 a.m. as she always did. She had fetched her first cup of coffee (two sugars and a cloud of milk), rummaged through her purse looking for a Tylenol (mentioning to a few people she had a bursting headache), sat down at her desk wearily and looking very tired, swallowed her Tylenol with coffee, sighed, started up her laptop, straightened her clothes and hair, dabbed a little bit of perfume on her throat (like she did every day before she started), grabbed the file she had been working on the day before, picked up her favorite pen from her neatly arranged desk, slumped off her chair as she gasped and fell dead on the ground. Her hand still clutched the pen when she lay on the tiled floor.

By the time her colleagues reached her desk, she was already gone. Her eyes stared into nothingness, the light broken in them, her face distorted in a strange sort of pain only she could have felt right before her death. She hadn't even spoken a word as she fell, not begged for help, not cried out. There was just that gasp and then there was nothing.

Gale Bertram, hearing the commotion, stormed out of his office, stared at the 40-year old woman, reached for his phone and dialed 911 as people who had followed First Aid courses surrounded her to help her. As he spoke into the receiver, Bertram knew from instinct there was nothing anyone could do.

Several Agents tried to resuscitate Janet for more than ten minutes, until Paramedics came and took over. By that time, her skin was already turning clamp and her eyes had gained that strange, eerie glance only the dead had. Even for those surrounded by death and murder on a daily basis, it was hard to watch.

Janet Gray was a strong, sportive woman who left three children and a grieving husband. But young, sportive women could die from heart attacks, just like anybody else. So even though her death was a shock, nobody thought better of it.

She left a lot of memories at the office. And a neatly stacked desk she had occupied for over twelve years, working for various Directors at her beloved CBI. The only personal memory of her on that desk was a photo of her family and her small bottle of perfume.

At her funeral, it became clear how much she was loved. Every single Agent that could be missed stood at her grave and mourned her. Nobody understood how a strong, healthy woman could do of a heart attack, just like that. But it happened. It could happen to anyone and now it had happened at the CBI, leaving grief stricken friends and colleagues behind.

Special Agent Teresa Lisbon found herself staring at the woman's grave, watching them slip in the urn with her ashes, not grasping the reality of it. She had seen Janet that morning in the coffee corner, chatting with her about the weekend and her children. And then, four minutes later, she was dead. Just like that.

Lisbon's colleagues, standing next to her, felt the same. Grace Van Pelt had cried when she heard, Rigsby had reacted in shock. Even Cho had shown some of his distress. And Jane, well, Jane heard the news when he entered the office later that morning, then walked slowly into the small kitchen and prepared a cup of tea. Then he sat on his couch, sipped his tea and recalled how Janet Gray had been the first real person to welcome him at the CBI. When he was hired, she had shown him around, had introduced him to everyone and had helped him get used to his new situation.

It was Janet who had found him sitting in grief during those first weeks at the job when he remembered the past. She was the one who had offered him a shoulder to lean onto (even though he hadn't always taken it). He'd had a special bond with her. He had even met her husband once or twice when the man came to pick her up at the office. Janet, despite the fact they'd had practically the same age, had felt like a mother when no one else was eager to work with him.

The few days after her death he couldn't bear to walk past her desk, knowing that life went on and that soon the CBI would go on about its usual business. That's what happened to everyone after their deaths.

Standing near her grave, at a safe distance from her family, Patrick Jane looked around. He saw the entire CBI-top, Agents, secretaries, co-workers and even some people from the maintenance crew. Janet Gray had indeed left a lot of impact. There were faces around he had seen, some he had hardly ever encountered.

Then there was her family, her friends, acquaintances.

God, how he hated Cemeteries.

He withdrew quietly from the small line of people he was with and moved away from Janet's grave, eager to get away from the sobbing. He didn't do sobbing. He withdrew within his own mind, forcing out the memories of his own grieving. He walked quietly over to an old oak tree and sank down, sitting on the grass in the shadows, watching the scene before him.

When it was finally over, Teresa Lisbon turned to nod at her colleagues, only to find Jane gone. As they turned away from the grave, the team spotted him sitting underneath the tree and walked over. From the corner of her eye, Lisbon caught sight of a young, blonde woman standing near Bertram. She couldn't explain why, but the woman drew her attention. Her eyes were covered behind dark sunglasses. She wore a black dress and black smart shoes. She was absolutely stunning. Bertram often looked at her, smiling as they seemed to chat about this and that. Then the blonde woman spotted her and smiled a small, fake smile. It made Lisbon feel uncomfortable.

Jane stood as Lisbon, Van Pelt, Cho and Rigsby approached him. "Ready to go?" he asked fake-brightly. "Let's get out of here. I hate this place."

"Don't we all," Lisbon muttered. "Come on, guys."

All five of them stepped into the black CBI-van with Rigsby driving. None of them felt like going back to work but possible cases kept on coming in and they had a lot of work to do. Van Pelt, sitting next to Jane, caught him staring out the window and touched his arm lightly. "You okay, Jane?" she asked concerned.

"Yeah, everything's swell," he replied, not looking at her. The others knew when to leave him alone and so they did. The rest of the trip was done in silence.

When they returned to the office, the first thing Lisbon spotted was Janet's emptied desk, waiting for a new occupant. That's how it went. As she turned, she bumped into the blonde woman from the funeral, carrying a small cardboard box with personal items. The blonde placed her box on Janet's former desk, took off her sunglasses and looked behind her as Gale Bertram approached.

"Ready for your first day, Kate?" he asked.

The blonde smiled. "Ready to go, sir."

"Good. Just call me if you need anything." Bertram placed a brief hand on her shoulder and vanished into his office, shutting the door behind him. The blonde woman looked around and spotted people staring at her. She gave them the brightest smile she could and then went about unpacking her personal items: A few photos, an engraved pen and the laptop she had been handed as work tool.

Ten minutes later she was logged in and ready to start.

It was only then that she noticed she was alone and that everyone had gone back to work as if nothing had ever happened. The only person looking at her from a short distance was Jane.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

Patrick Jane didn't make friends easily. For that, he was too introvert, too closed and too cynical. He didn't believe in friendship at first sight. Friendships needed to be worked on, to be built on a certain level of trust one should earn. Apart from that, he had always been too afraid to make friends, somehow sensing that any friendship could work against him and could be abused by others.

It had taken him more than three years to build a certain level of trust with the CBI-team he worked with on a daily basis now. He hadn't believed that they would ever become friends to begin with. He didn't deny that he had entered the CBI on a detailed and tuned plan, using all of his skills as a con artist to get what he wanted.

It had also taken him three years to realize that Teresa Lisbon, his _boss_, knew this. She wasn't a fool, far from it. She was in many ways cleverer than he was. They were equals and they both knew it. That level of knowledge had been the basis of their partnership and friendship. Technically she might have been his boss, in reality his wit and results had put them on the same level.

It was that level that made Patrick Jane confess that morning that he didn't feel like his normal self when he entered the office. Lately he had been feeling a bit out of it, like there was something brooding that wouldn't come out. So when he came in quite early that morning and found her at her desk, he sat down on a chair by her desk and told her how he felt. The fact that he did, proved to Lisbon that Patrick Jane had come a long way.

Lisbon knew her consultant well enough to know when to leave him alone. This morning was one of those mornings. His irritability shone off of him as soon as she cast a glance on his face.

"What's up?" she asked, putting down her pen. "Bad night?"

He just grunted and mumbled something she couldn't understand. She picked up her pen again, returned to her file and continued writing, ignoring him until he finally sat upright and half looked at her, waiting for her to ask more questions.

"Come on, Jane. Spill the beans. What's up?"

He just shrugged. "Bad mood day, I guess. I think I caught a bug."

"Not feeling well?"

"I don't know."

She raised an eyebrow. "Jane, you're not the type to get out of bed with the wrong foot _or_ to be sick. What's going on?"

"Seriously, Lisbon. I don't know. I've been feeling off lately and I don't know what's wrong."

"Alright." Before he could stop her, Lisbon placed a hand on his forehead, like she would with a child. "You don't feel warm. Did you have any fevers?"

"I don't think so."

"Is it your head?"

He paused. "Good question. I have had some headaches but I don't think that I have a migraine."

"Your stomach?"

"A bit queasy."

"Did you eat properly?"

"Yes, mother."

She leaned back. "Jane, just spill the beans. What's going on? It's something else, isn't it?"

"Okay," he said, admitting defeat and knowing she knew him too well. "I've been having these weird dreams lately. I've been sleeping so badly that it affects my mood."

"You did seem to be a little bit off lately. What are your dreams about?"

He shrugged again. "Everything and nothing. The usual. Bloody smiley faces, dead people. Janet Gray."

"Janet?" With that, her attention was fully focused on him. "Why Janet?"

"I don't know, Lisbon. I just keep on having these thoughts about her. Like there is something that we've missed. I dream a lot about her."

"Jane?"

"Yeah?"

"You're not suddenly turning psychic on me, are you?" she asked cautiously.

"Lisbon, I said I'm _dreaming_ about her, not _talking_ to her. A slight difference, you know?" He finally rose and walked into the kitchen, glancing at his watch. It was nearly nine and for the first time in three weeks he stood alone to make his cup of tea. At that exact moment, every single hair on his body rose. He couldn't explain the how or why but he knew something was wrong.

As he looked up, the new woman stepped into the kitchen, nodded curtly at him and poured a cup of coffee, ignoring him. The feeling subsided just as quickly as it had come.

Jane shook his head lightly, pushing away the feeling and returned to his favorite couch, sipping his tea. Lisbon watched him intently, almost sighing in relief when he started to behave like he normally did.

"Jane."

"Yeah?"

"You know you can tell me anything, right?"

He smiled lightly. "Yeah, I know. Thanks."

It would be days later that Teresa Lisbon remembered this conversation. By then, she would think: _If only I had listened better. _It would have prevented a lot of heartache.

Life went its normal routine. Cases came and cases went, the CBI-agents were used to their hectic lifestyle and adapted quickly to new circumstances. After two weeks, it almost felt as if Janet Gray had never worked there. Her replacement took her place smoothly. Almost _too _smoothly.

The only reminder of Janet was a photo placed on the memory wall, where she lingered between deceased CBI-agents.

Every morning at 8.30 a.m., Kate Lomax, the new girl in town, walked into the kitchen where she took a cup of coffee and one biscuit (always the same biscuit, vanilla/chocolate mix) and chatted with her co-workers and agents about whatever came up.

It was the second day on the job that she met Patrick Jane for the first time, patiently waiting for the kettle to boil to make his first, perfect cup of tea of the day. She watched him intently as he took out his personal favorite flavor (English Breakfast tea with Jasmine scent), dipped it eight synchronized times into the water, added one small teaspoon of sugar and carefully mixed it. Then he would taste it gently, closing his eyes just for a brief moment as he savored the taste. He then took his cup of tea to an old, brown leather couch near the desk of Teresa Lisbon.

It was as for that brief moment he was out of this world and into another, tea-driven, universe, that she found herself watching him in awe. When he looked up, he saw her staring at him, but he didn't speak a word.

He saved that for her third day, when they again met briefly in the kitchen.

"Good morning," he said with a polite smile. "How are you today?"

"Fine," she said, taking the opportunity to introduce herself by offering her hand. "Kate Lomax."

"Patrick Jane."

"Ah, the infamous consultant."

He smiled. "Don't believe what you've heard of me."

"And what if it was nothing but good?"

He smirked. "I doubt that."

She laughed. "Well, I admit, it was fascinating to hear the stories about you. But I'm sure you know that."

"I haven't heard them, so I wouldn't know." With that, he nodded politely and returned to his couch.

The fourth day on the job, they chatted about the weather. The fifth day, about her family. On the sixth day, she found herself enjoying his company and he lingered about longer in the kitchen. She knew there was no romantic interest between them. After all, he was a widower and she was happily married and had no interest whatsoever in other men.

They were becoming friends though and because they were friends, she also became friends to the team he daily worked with, even the cool (or so she seemed) Special Agent Lisbon, who was the head of the team and had a lot of power at the CBI-office.

Kate Lomax felt comfortable in her new position and relished every minute of it. Little did she know that it wouldn't last long.

On the seventh day on the job, during her second week at the CBI, Kate Lomax started to feel off. She started waking up with a strong headache, combined with a queasy stomach and the feeling there was a bug lingering. Of course, with two young children in her household, illnesses were never far off. But this time, she really didn't seem to be able to shake it off.

When she told Patrick Jane about it, he looked at her intently. When she spoke, it was as if he was talking about himself. Even though he had felt better for some days, the headaches had returned. Whatever it was, it was lingering within the CBI.

On the ninth day at her job, Kate Lomax came home and found her house broken into. Her living room had been ransacked yet nothing seemed to be missing. Her husband and children were not home yet when she called the police with quivering fingers, explaining about the breaking and entering. They came quickly, found nothing missing, took photos and ran fingerprints but found nothing. Their theory was that Kate had come home too early and they had to run through the backdoor when she did with nothing.

The entire weekend that followed, Kate spent with fevers in her bed.

On the beginning of the third week of her new job, Kate Lomax, who was supposed to go to work that morning and had planned an early start, lay dead in her bed. She was found by her husband.


	3. Chapter 3

Thanks so much for the lovely reviews, followings and personal messages about this story!

When I started writing it, I had no idea where it would be going and now it's all becoming very clear. Hope you enjoy the next chapter, I hope to be posting daily as I've finished six chapters so far. Again, thanks a lot! Reviews are very welcome as well as feedback.

**Chapter three **

Patrick Jane had spent his entire weekend reading lazily in bed or sleeping, unable to even come out to fetch some food. The headaches had gotten worse, sometimes it felt like his head would explode. Then they would suddenly be better and he would think that whatever bug he had, had gone away, casting hope and then crushing it when they returned with a vengeance.

That Monday morning, he actually felt a bit fitter and ready to dive into work and so he left the attic he had made his own little private space to go downstairs and join the others.

Lisbon was already there, dark rings underneath her eyes as if she had barely slept. He hesitated to ask about it but decided against it.

"Good morning," he said cheerily. "How was your weekend?"

"Okay," she replied. "Been catching up on paperwork. How was yours?"

Debating whether to tell her or not, he decided to go for the less feeling sorry for himself approach and just smiled. "Fine. Been catching up on reading."

"Good."

As the bullpen filled up with people, Jane walked into the kitchen and came back with a cup of coffee for Lisbon and a cup of tea for himself, nodding politely at the agents present there. There was a comrade atmosphere lingering about as people spoke of their weekends and their families. Here was where Jane didn't feel so lonely and he liked it.

But then it all went to hell.

Exactly two seconds later, the phone on Gale Bertram's desk rang. A minute later, a very pale Bertram, head of the CBI, entered the bullpen and stared in shock at Teresa Lisbon who instantly caught his eye.

"Sir?" she asked cautiously, rising from her chair as Grace Van Pelt, Wayne Rigsby, Kimball Cho and Patrick Jane looked up. "What's going on?"

He scraped his throat. "It's Kate Lomax. She's dead."

Instantly the bullpen became very quiet as they stared at their Director. "What? How?" Lisbon uttered.

"Apparently it was a heart attack. Her husband found her dead in bed. She died in her sleep."

More silence. It was Jane who said it aloud. "Just like Janet Gray."

Gale Bertram nodded quietly. "Just like Gray."

It was those words that set the entire department in a stir. Two young women dying in a few weeks' time in the exact same manner?

The fact that, behind them, veteran Agent Tom Peterson suddenly collapsed to the ground didn't help either. Gasping for air, clutching his chest, Peterson couldn't breathe at all as he lay crumbled to the ground. Instantly surrounded by his co-workers, he was resuscitated. Paramedics were called. He went into cardiac arrest twice before they even loaded him into an ambulance.

Later they learned that he died before they reached the hospital. Every effort to save him, was useless. Just like Janet Gray and Kate Lomax before him, he died a quick death. In his case, one could even argue about the heart attack, as he had been a bulky man with a notorious appetite for sweets.

Patrick Jane, just like Teresa Lisbon, couldn't help but think: _It's Red John. Red John. It's Red John! _

Gale Bertram walked with strong and quick pace through the bullpen, barking orders at anyone who was in and not working on urgent cases. He was panicking and in his panic he became a forceful entity to deal with. Before his time, when there were others like Minelli leading the CBI, Red John had been able to come in and kill off agents. He would make sure that this would not happen again. Yet it was already being done. Three people died in the course of a short period of time and who knows how many others might follow?

"Lisbon. My office. _Now!_"

Teresa Lisbon shared a glance with Jane, beckoning him with a curt headshake to go with her. Jane, usually the one able to lighten the mood, was calm, quiet and serious as he followed her. He had that _Red John-glare_ in his eyes, that strange mood she knew referred to the man they had been searching for so many years now.

But something inside of her – and she knew Jane felt the same – didn't speak of Red John. This was not the way he performed his tricks. His kills were bloody, gory. These were strange deaths, almost natural deaths. Had they not occurred within weeks from each other, no one would have thought better of them.

Bertram hardly looked up when they entered his office. Both of them sat down quietly, shocked by the three deaths happening in such a short time.

"We have a situation," Bertram spoke quietly. "And it's one that we need to solve _now_. I just got word back from the coroner's office. He's examining the bodies of Tom Peterson and Kate Lomax right now."

"And?" Teresa leaned forward.

"They both died of a heart attack. He is running toxicology screens and tissue samples through every test possible. It might take days before we have all the results but he's running emergency procedures."

"And Janet Gray?" Jane asked slowly.

"Unfortunately she was cremated. There is no way of finding out now what has happened to her."

"But you think she was murdered, don't you?" Jane interrupted.

Bertram looked at his consultant wearily. "That's the conclusion we have to draw."

"How?" Lisbon asked concerned. "What can cause cardiac arrest just like that?"

"That, we need to find out and we need to do it asap. I've got big guns breathing down my neck. I can't afford another agent to die on me just like that."

"Sir, are you assuming Red John is behind this?" Lisbon asked tensely.

"That's for you to find out, Agent Lisbon. But if it's him, he has another person working on the inside of the CBI. Image the scandal if this gets leaked. Who's going to trust an Agency that can't even protect its own? Lisbon … Teresa … I'm putting you in charge of the investigation. Drop everything you've been doing and find out who is doing this to us."

Lisbon nodded. "Yes, sir."

She rose slightly, waiting for Jane to do the same. But Jane remained seated in his chair, folded his hands together and seemed to be away in thought.

"Jane?" Lisbon looked at him more intensely. "Are you alright?"

Jane slowly looked up. "It wasn't Red John. He wouldn't do this without giving us a sign. I don't feel him around. It's definitely not him. So that means we've got another major enemy to reckon with."

"The first thing we need to find out is what Janet Gray, Kate Lomax and Tom Peterson had in common," Lisbon said. "That's our starting point. It's the only lead we've got."

Bertram nodded. "Lisbon," he ended seriously. "I don't want upset and fear within the Agency. We need to do this right. Make sure the troops are calm and continue the investigation professionally and thoroughly."

"Yes, sir."

Lisbon turned to leave, watching Jane rise from his chair. He followed her outside as she walked back to the bullpen, scraped her throat and drew the attention of the other agents.

"Everyone," she spoke with loud but firm voice. "I know that all of you are in shock. So am I. But we have work to do. Despite our feelings of what has happened here, we need to figure out what has happened to Kate Lomax and Tom Peterson as quickly as possible. If you have anything on either of them, things they might have said, enemies they might have had, come to me and tell me. If you need it to be confident, let me know. We are going to do everything we can to make sure that this is solved quickly."

One of the agents came closer, her voice upset and trembling. "So they were murdered?" she asked.

Lisbon looked at the young woman who adjusted her glasses. "We don't know that yet," she replied. "But it cannot be a coincidence that two agents both died within a few hours from each other with the same symptoms. So yes, I'm afraid we have to assume they were murdered."

"And Janet Gray?" another woman asked. "Aren't we forgetting her?"

Lisbon empathically shook her head lightly. "Now, we are not forgetting about Janet. And yes, we must assume that she might have fallen victim too. Unfortunately we cannot prove that as no autopsy was done and she was cremated. We are considering opening a file on her death too. So if you have something that might help us, let us know."

With that, Lisbon returned to her desk, grabbed her car keys and beckoned Jane and Cho to go with her. As they walked to her car, Lisbon spoke for only them to hear. "Let's hope the Coroner has found something," she said. "That's our first lead. At least then we'll know what we're dealing with."

"It's not the what that troubles me," Jane replied, "but the how and the who."

"I know, Jane." Lisbon started her car and left her parking space. "The who might be linked to the how."

"Well," Jane spoke slowly. "I do know something Gray, Lomax and Peterson had in common."

Lisbon looked up shocked, staring at Jane in her rearview mirror. "What, Jane?"

Jane's voice was very quiet as he said, "They were my friends."

Lisbon opened her mouth to retort, stopped by Cho's glare. Instantly her mind started to grasp the minor details of these three people. Janet Gray, being the motherly figure to Jane's early grief. Kate Lomax' coffee fetching always coinciding with Jane's trips to the kitchen. And then there was Peterson. Suddenly Lisbon remembered Peterson's chats with Jane about football and baseball games. They were brief chats, like men did when they had a common interest, but they were chats nonetheless.

"Jane," she spoke slowly. "You said you were feeling off a few weeks ago. Please tell me that you are okay now."

Jane hesitated to lie, only to realize that he couldn't. He just shrugged and said nothing, as a cold fear grasped Lisbon's heart.

Jane, sitting in the backseat, looked outside at the CBI-building he was so familiar with. Suddenly it looked hostile. Filled with possible enemies. "Trust no one," he whispered as he turned and looked out of the front window.

Lisbon and Cho could only confirm that feeling.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter four**

"I can tell you one thing," the coroner began as he removed the two white sheets covering the bodies of Kate Lomax and Tom Peterson and folding it backwards until their faces, throats and bare shoulders were uncovered. You could see the beginning of the typical autopsy V-line on their bodies, making Jane want to look away. It was different when it concerned people he didn't know. In their case, their living and breathing memories were still too vivid. "These people died of heart attacks."

Lisbon raised an eyebrow in disbelief, deliberately not looking at the bodies before her. "They did?"

"Yes, they did. But that doesn't mean they were natural deaths. Especially with young people like these, there could be cause for further investigation. What I can tell you right now, apart from the failing hearts, is that they both had skin rash on their legs – minor rash, I must add – but distinguished nonetheless and very similar – and that they both hadn't eaten in a few days. I spotted a lot of acid in their stomachs. My guess is they were both sick the days before their deaths. Did any of them complain of anything before they died?"

"Yes," Jane said. "Kate mentioned she hadn't been feeling well before the weekend."

"Can you be more specific?"

"That's all she said, really. But I can tell you what she might have felt. Dizziness, nausea, an upset stomach, headaches. She might have vomited a few times. She will probably have thought she was suffering from a typical stomach bug."

The coroner looked intently at Jane. "How do you know all of this?"

Jane shrugged, almost shivering. "Because I have had the same symptoms."

Lisbon almost gasped as she looked at her agent, suddenly noticing the telltale signs of someone who was sick. "Jane? Why didn't you tell me before?"

Jane smiled weakly. "The chance that I have the same as they have, is quite slim, don't you think, Lisbon? Besides, I've been feeling up and down for weeks. If anyone would have died, it would have been me."

Teresa Lisbon shivered in the cold coroner's lab, realizing that she too had felt weak the past few days. And then she started to realize that a lot of people at the office had complained about that damned stomach bug that seemed to be going around the office. She'd overheard the talks about it in the kitchen, had watched her colleagues taking stomach tablets. A stomach bug or …?

"Oh god," Lisbon whispered, realizing that they might be uncovering something far worse. "I have to call Bertram. Doctor, how long before you get the toxicology reports back?"

"I should have results in the morning," the coroner said, concerned. "Agent Lisbon, what is going on? Is there something that I should know? Something to look for?"

Lisbon cast a worried spell on Jane and Cho. They both knew what she was thinking. Cho was particularly quiet, too quietly, even for his normal behavior.

"I think that we might be poisoned," she said, calmly. "Please call me as soon as you have the results. I have to make some calls right now and warn the Bureau."

"If that is so, you could have an epidemic on your hands," the corner spoke carefully. "The best thing you can do right now is contact the hospital and have everyone checked out at once."

"What kind of poison would cause heart attacks?" Jane asked wearily, leaning against the cold slab on which Kate's body lay.

"There are several types that could remain unseen and cause these effects. But to be more specific, I need the blood work. Guessing has no use at this point."

"Okay, thank you." Lisbon turned to leave, followed by Jane and Cho.

It wasn't until she heard the rattling of falling equipment on a cold, tiled floor behind her that Lisbon realized her consultant had fallen like a brick to the ground, lying perfectly still on his belly.

"Call a doctor," is all Cho said as he hovered over a very pale Jane. It wasn't until he added, "Jane's passed out but he's breathing," that Lisbon realized her own heart had practically stopped as well.

Less than two hours later, Jane was resting in an ER hospital bed, completely out of it but breathing regularly and calmly, aided by an oxygen mask with an IV pushing fluids into him.

"It's a good thing you brought him here," the ER-doctor spoke, explaining Jane's situation to Lisbon and Cho. "Your colleague is dehydrated and suffering from anemia, low red blood cells. He must have been feeling off for quite some time to cause these symptoms. Has he eaten at all lately?"

"I don't know," Lisbon replied, feeling extremely guilty as she recalled their conversation of a few weeks ago where he had complained of not feeling well. They had been so busy lately that she had hardly paid attention to anything or anyone. Running from case to case all over California had not done any of them any good. And now that she thought of it, she could only remember seeing him with dozens of cups of tea.

"Well, his abdomen is swollen and upset and he shows signs of extreme fatigue. My guess is that he's been battling against whatever stomach bug has hit him without getting medical help."

"He said he was feeling dizzy and has complained of headaches," Lisbon reacted.

"These symptoms are all related to each other. Headaches and stomach aches are often related to each other. A few days here with the right medication will sort things out. He should be fine in a day or two with the proper medication and rest. I will run some tests on his stomach and intestines to see if there are bacteria present."

"Doctor," Lisbon spoke slowly, considering her words. "Can you run some blood tests on Jane, myself and Agent Cho here? I have reason to believe that we might be poisoned."

"Poisoned?" The doctor stared skeptically at her. "There is no reason to believe that Mr. Jane is poisoned."

"Even so, I need you to do run these tests." Quickly Lisbon explained what was going on, trying to get the doctor on her side. "Besides us, I will be sending every single member of our Agency to this ER to run the same tests. I can't afford not to."

"Alright," the doctor agreed. "Better yet, I will send a team over to the CBI to take blood samples there. We can do a quick exam of every staff member there and see if there are more agents in the shape that Mr. Jane is."

"Thank you, doctor," Lisbon said relieved, grabbing her phone and contacting Bertram to bring him up to date.

Then she looked at Cho who sat down on a chair next to Jane's bed. Lisbon grabbed another chair as she sat down, waiting for the blood tests to be arranged. "I can't help but think of what Jane said earlier," Cho began.

"About what?"

"He spoke of the one thing that our three victims had in common: Him."

"That must have been a coincidence," Lisbon replied. "Everyone at the CBI knows each other. Whoever is out there to get us might have picked random victims – or specific ones, based on a common interest or personal interest in them."

"Still," Cho said, "If Jane hadn't collapsed, he might have died like the others."

"The doctor said he's strong, he won't just die like that. Besides, his illness might actually be a coincidence."

"You don't believe that, do you?" Cho said.

"But think about it, Cho. He's been sick for quite some time. If he was poisoned, wouldn't he have died earlier?"

"I know." Cho hesitated. "Boss, I feel fine. I haven't been sick in years. I'm pretty sure neither Rigsby or Van Pelt felt sick either. How about you?"

"I am fine," Lisbon said. "I am tired, yes, and I do have headaches, but they are related to my lack of sleep. I haven't been sick in years either."

"Good. That's good."

Lisbon watched her consultant carefully. "Let's just hope that we are all completely wrong and there's nothing to look for."

Cho eyed her skeptically but nodded nonetheless. "Yeah."

Jane stirred and opened his eyes, not realizing at first where he was until he recognized the small cubicle from earlier visits to the ER.

"Welcome back, Jane," Lisbon said, grabbing his hand and squeezing it tightly and comforting. "Don't worry, you're going to be okay. You passed out. The doctor said you're dehydrated and they need to take care of you for a few days, but you're going to be okay."

Jane wet his lips and cleared his throat, trying to gather words. "My heart?" he finally croaked.

"Your heart is perfectly fine. You've been monitored. You don't have to worry. They're going to fix your stomach first so you can eat better. You should have told us. Your blood sugars are way too low."

Jane smiled weakly. "Sorry." Then he closed his eyes again and slept.

As the doctor returned and learned Jane had woken up, he nodded briefly. "That's a good sign. Can you two come with me? I'll be drawing some blood from you and from Mr. Jane. I've requested an emergency procedure. We should have results by tomorrow morning, if anything shows up of course."

"Thank you, doctor."

After the blood tests, Lisbon and Cho returned to Jane's cubicle. He was being prepared for transfer to a private room. A nurse had tapped a vial of blood and sent it off to the lab.

"Cho, I need you to stay with Jane," Lisbon said. "Don't let him out of your sight, not for a moment. Stomach bug, poisoning, whatever this is – I'm not taking any chances. I'm going back to the CBI. If we are being poisoned, I need to find out how. Call me when he wakes up again and keep me posted."

"Will do, boss." Cho folded his arms over each other sternly, standing guard. Lisbon smiled despite everything.

"I will send Van Pelt over tonight so you can get some rest."

"Don't worry about it. Just do what you have to do."

Lisbon cast a last glance at Jane and left, hoping and praying that they were all wrong and all of this was just a coincidence. But deep in her heart she knew that there were no such things as coincidences.

Someone was out to get them and it was her duty to get that someone first. A lot of lives could depend on it.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter five**

It was late when Lisbon arrived back at the CBI but there was still a lot of activity around. When she entered the bullpen, she could sense her colleagues waiting anxiously for some explanation.

"Listen up," she said, standing in the middle of a circle of co-workers who approached. "I've spoken to a doctor and they are sending over a team as early as tomorrow morning to draw blood from all of us. We have reason to believe that we might be poisoned somehow."

Murmurs broke the silence as CBI-agents and co-workers stared at each other in shock.

"Hang on," Lisbon said, raising her hands. "I need to know if anyone of you has been feeling sick lately. I'm talking about dizziness, headaches, strange skin rashes, stomach upset, … is there anyone who has experienced this?"

Four hands were raised. Two men and two women stepped forward. Lisbon sighed quietly when she spotted Van Pelt amongst them.

"Okay. The four of you are going to go to hospital right now and be checked out. Anyone else?"

There were head shakes and shrugs.

"No matter how minor it may seem, let us know as soon as you feel sick or off. Alright? If you don't, then you should be fine."

"What's causing this?" someone asked from the back. Lisbon looked at the man with dark hair and Harry Potter-type glasses. He was one of the quiet nerds that she worked with for data retrieval.

"That's what we are hoping to find out in the morning. As long as we don't know what it is, we can't trace back the source."

"So it could be in anything?" someone else asked troubled.

Lisbon cast a glance at Bertram who listened intently to her reaction. "I'm asking for volunteers right now in groups of three to check out the building. I'm talking about air vents, food supplies, drinking water, anything that might seem like it could be a source of contamination."

"So there might not be a suspect then?" another person asked. "It might be something in the building?"

"Right now," Bertram interrupted Lisbon, "we are not accusing anyone. We're looking into all possibilities."

"What about Jane?" another man asked. "Is he going to die?"

"No, he's not going to die," Lisbon said firmly. "He's fine. He was sick for some time and didn't eat properly. He'll be fine and up and about in a few days."

Several men and women stepped forward to volunteer. Rigsby divided them in groups and sent them to several floors of the building. Lisbon sent Van Pelt and her colleagues to the hospital to be checked out, contacting the ER-doctor who was treating Jane. Then she sat down at long last, took deep breaths and tried to make sense out of it all, praying that there would be no traces of poisoning into the blood work.

"Boss. Boss!"

"What? What?!" Lisbon awoke startled from unpleasant dreams, only to find she had fallen asleep with her head on her desk and her saliva on her paperwork.

Rigsby stood before her, watching her concerned. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah." She rubbed her hair from her face. "What time is it?"

"After midnight. Everyone's gone home. We found nothing, nada, zilch."

"Is that a good or a bad sign?" Lisbon sighed.

"Depends on how you look at it. It means there are no problems with the building itself. Which leaves two options open, I guess."

"I was rather hoping you'd find a malfunction in the air ducts." Lisbon rose. "Go home, Rigsby and get some sleep."

"Nah," he replied. "I'll wait here."

"Any word from Van Pelt?"

"Nothing yet. She sent a text that the doctor was going to examine them soon but that was over two hours ago. She did ask me to let you know that Jane was awake and doing much better."

"That's good," Lisbon sighed in relief. "I think I'll head over there now and relief Cho of duty so he can get some rest."

"Boss, I don't mean to be rude but it looks like you're the one who needs the rest."

"I'll rest when all of this is over." Lisbon shoved her chair backwards. "Why don't you come with me? You'll be closer to Van Pelt then."

Rigsby blushed like he always did with the mention of Grace's name. He hadn't gotten used to the fact the entire CBI knew of their relationship yet. Somehow, every time it came up, he felt embarrassed.

"Okay, boss. I'll drive."

"Fine. And stop calling me boss."

"Okay boss … erm, Lisbon."

Lisbon smiled and grabbed her jacket. As they shut off the lights, Lisbon turned to look at her working area, mixed emotions washing over her face. Could it really be true that someone she worked with would be causing all of this? That someone intentionally poisoned them? Or was it all just a coincidence and were they digging into situations that weren't situations at all? If only she already knew.

As they drove quietly to the hospital, Lisbon couldn't help but recall Jane's words over and over again. If he knew something, or sensed something at all, they needed to find out what it was quickly.

At the hospital, Rigsby and Lisbon split up. While he went in search of Van Pelt and the three other agents who had claimed sickness, Lisbon asked for Jane's room number and headed there. He was in a private room on the third floor.

As she peered in, she spotted Cho wide awake, sitting in a lounge chair, looking outside. He turned when he saw her enter. From the door she could tell that Jane was in a peaceful slumber, undoubtedly drugged to allow his body to rest. It always struck her how vulnerable he looked laying in a bed like that. What a pity it was he had no family to worry over him. They were his family.

"How is he?" she whispered.

"He was very lucid a few hours ago but they gave him a sedative so he could rest up. He insists on leaving tomorrow and the doctor has given his consent under the condition that he takes his medication and rests in the next couple of days. And of course if they don't find anything out of the ordinary in his blood."

"That might not be such a bad idea," Lisbon agreed. "We can keep a close eye on him at the CBI. If he's up for it, why not?"

Cho nodded. "Agreed."

"Did he say anything else?"

"Not while he was awake but he was running a fever before and mumbled a lot about Janet Gray and Kate Lomax. I think he feels guilty somehow."

"Knowing Jane I wouldn't be surprised. Did the doctor come back?"

"No, apart from the nursing staff there hasn't been anyone in."

"That means they haven't got the results yet," Lisbon sighed. "I was hoping they would."

She quickly informed Cho on the events at the CBI and told him to go home, knowing he would probably go to the ER instead and find his colleagues. As she remained alone with Jane, Lisbon walked up closer to the bed and watched her consultant sleep. He was calm and unaware she was there. Then she retreated in her chair and began to stare outside, just like Cho had done.

Less than an hour later, Rigsby and Cho returned to the room to tell her that two of the four CBI-agents were being admitted. They showed signs of stomach upset and irregular heartbeats and had to be monitored. Van Pelt and one other agent were being released in a few moments.

The news kept Lisbon up all night. It was early morning, with clear sunshine entering the room, that Jane woke up and saw her sitting there. As she watched him, she knew he was doing much better and she smiled a relieved smile. At least that was something.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter six **

The doctor came in around 9 am, a serious look on his face.

"Okay," he said, "I have some results here that I can't explain. In fact, I'm at a loss. I've never seen anything like it."

"What is it, doc?" Jane asked, pulling himself up against the pillow, for the first time concerned about his own health.

"Well, whatever this is, it's definitely not natural. Your blood work came back with some strange abnormalities. You have some sort of toxin in your system but it's not something I'm familiar with. We've found out that your blood count is extremely low, either pointing to anemia, as mentioned before, but we've given you iron and blood last night and the ratings should be climbing by now, which they aren't. Apart from that, there were traces of lead in your blood."

"Lead?" Lisbon asked deeply troubled. "Are we talking about lead poisoning?"

"Yes, but unlike I've ever seen. We will have to do a lot of tests to find out what organs have been infected and to what extent. But we have to take this very seriously. If any of your organs have been heavily affected, we could be talking kidney failure, liver failure or .."

"Heart failure."

"So instead of allowing you to go home, I'm going to order a number of tests to find out what is going on inside of you."

Jane nodded slowly. "What about the others you have kept overnight?"

"Their blood work hasn't come back yet. Agent Lisbon, in your blood I found a very low level of lead. It seems that somehow you were exposed too but in a lot lesser way. In your case the dosage is so low that it should go leave your system naturally. The same goes for Agent Cho."

Jane and Lisbon looked at each other, confused. "What does that mean, doctor?" Lisbon asked. "How did Jane get more exposure?"

"That, I can't explain yet. I would like to do a gastroscopy and take tissue samples of his stomach and intestines. Then we can see if he has inhaled or digested the lead somehow. To be honest, I haven't seen anything like this ever before. I'd like to consult with some colleagues on your condition too."

"Doctor," Jane spoke slowly. "Will you do these tests today?"

"I will try but chances are high they will be done tomorrow morning at the earliest. I need to arrange practicalities with all the different labs and physicians."

"Then I'd like to leave today and come back tomorrow."

"Mr. Jane, I'm not sure if you understand your situation here. You are a very sick man. Going back to a possible infectious environment might be the death of you. We need to get you on the right medication as soon as possible."

"Which you will only get when you know what is poisoning me."

"That's true, but we might start up a dosage of antibiotics and keep the fluids running to flush the lead out of your system."

"Doctor, if I am correct, I've been walking around like this for the past three weeks. Do you think I'm going to die today?"

"No, but –"

"I promise you I will take it easy, doctor, but I think I can be of help at the CBI. Agent Lisbon will keep an eye on me and I promise to come back if things get worse. But I need to find out what is going on. The lives of many people could depend on it." Lisbon watched Jane as he spoke, realizing he was quite serious about this.

"I'll watch him," she heard herself say. "But he's right. We could use him. I'll bring him back first thing in the morning for the tests."

The doctor reluctantly agreed. "Call me as soon as there is a change. You do realize you're discharging yourself at own risk?"

"I understand," Jane said calmly. "Thank you."

The doctor nodded and sighed. "You are a very stubborn man, Mr. Jane. Don't let that be the death of you someday soon. As he removed the IV, Jane smiled. "You might say that I'm in sync with myself, doc. I'll be fine."

"Somehow I think you're right. I'll expect you here tomorrow morning at 7 a.m. If you're not here, I'll send paramedics to come and get you, alright?"

"It's a deal."

Lisbon watched Jane as he pushed away his bed sheets and moved his legs out of the bed. She placed his clothes on the bed and said, "I'm going to call the coroner's office. Are you okay to dress alone?"

"Yeah, fine."

As she left the room, she heard him say, "Lisbon?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks for having my back."

"Any time, Jane." A smile played on her face as she left the room, realizing once again how much he had changed from the faux, selfish psychic he once was to this man who put his fate into her hands.

The coroner confirmed the doctor's findings, reading the results from the blood work he had done on the two bodies in his lab. Both showed a high level of lead in their system. He had gone back to their stomachs and taken tissue samples, confirming the same results. He promised to do more tests and asked her to consider this a murder investigation from now on.

Lisbon had goose bumps as she brought Jane with her to her car, watching his every move as he gingerly stepped into the passenger seat, closing his eyes now and then. She was already thinking about returning him to his room when he looked aside and smiled at her.

"My head is clear, Lisbon, and I have a plan to draw out our culprit."

"I'm all ears, Jane, because truth be told, I'm at a loss as to who is doing this and why."

"So am I. That's why we need him or her to make the first move."

"And how are you planning to do that?"

"By lying."

Lisbon smiled. "You do have experience in that area but hasn't that been a while back?"

Jane laughed. "I'm not going to con anyone, Lisbon, if that's what you think. But the only ones who know the truth so far about these lab results and the lead poisoning are you and I. All I'm asking you to do is keep back on the truth for one day and pretend it was all a mistake."

"Jane, a medical team is coming in to take blood samples from everyone."

"Call that a precautionary matter but convince them that there was nothing wrong with our three victims. You can't tell anyone, including Bertram. That way our killer will think he or she is safe and go about his business. Until we catch him in the act."

"We only have one day to do that, do you think that's enough?"

Jane leaned back. "I have this hunch that the blood work on our colleagues will help determine who it is."

Lisbon eyed him. "Jane, I don't know what you are thinking but I don't think I like it."

"Don't worry, Lisbon. It'll work out."

"I hope so," she sighed, knowing that, whenever it came to Patrick Jane, things never worked out the way they did.


	7. Chapter 7

Thank you, thank you, thank you to all people reading this story, sending messages, reviewing it and favoriting it.

I'm really glad with the reactions, they are truly appreciated!

**Chapter seven **

Bertram was expecting them as they entered the CBI-Headquarters. Lisbon had called him in advance, asking him not keep their meeting confidential.

As he sat down behind his desk, Bertram eyed Jane. "You look like you belong in a hospital. Are you sure you want to do this?"

"Sir," Jane spoke calmly, "if we want to catch the person who did this to this Bureau, then you need me. I have reason to believe that I'm the main target. Don't ask me why because I don't know. But as you know, I don't make friends easily and right now three people that I spoke a lot to on this premises, have died. I don't believe in coincidences."

"Then why is Agent Lisbon still up and running? And Rigsby? Van Pelt? Agent Cho?"

"I don't know, sir. I do know that Van Pelt became sick as well. And there are several people in this department that have complained of the same problems. I believe that he is poisoning us all slowly, probably through the air-conditioning system of this building, food or drinks."

"We've checked and searched the entire building. There was nothing to find."

"Sir, we are going under the suspicion he is one of us, someone who works here and is clever enough to do the poisoning slowly and in periods of time," Lisbon stated. "There were three weeks between Janet Gray's death and the other deaths. He must have worked very carefully, knowing we would immediately know had someone else died immediately after her. Perhaps he didn't assume that Kate and Tom would die almost at the same time either. Tom Peterson had a heart problem. In his blood work the coroner found a lot less traces of the lead but it was enough to stop his heart."

"Alright", Bertram said. "Assuming all this, how are you going to lure the rat out of its cage?"

"We are going to upset him," Jane said. "He has to believe that his work was for nothing. Basically, I want him to get so angry that he will take dramatic steps towards me, attempting to kill me."

Bertram raised his eyebrows. "You're going to try to have him _kill_ you?"

"Yes, sir. That's basically it."

"Assuming you are the target."

"Yes, assuming that."

"I don't mean to be the party pooper here, Jane, but what evidence do you have?"

"My illness," Jane replied quietly. "The levels of lead in my bloodstream were ten times higher than that of Lisbon. It's about the same level that took out Kate Lomax."

"Okay." Bertram stood. "How are we going to do this?"

Jane smiled. "You are going to love this one, sir. We would like you to call in every single agent and people working in this building, have them gather in the late afternoon and tell them that we – Agent Lisbon and I – had it all wrong. I'd like you to get into an argument with us. After that, it's wait and see."

Bertram smiled. "You're right. I do like to give you hell. Let's do it. What about the blood tests?"

"I've asked the hospital to still do them under the impression there is a stomach bug going about that is very aggressive. If our suspicions are correct, they will confirm who the killer is. The medical team will be here around 3 pm. We'll have the results later tonight."

Bertram grabbed his phone and called in his temporary assistant replacing Kate Lomax, barking orders at her. Instantly she went to work, sending out a general message to all field operatives and assistant to drop what they were doing and to return to the CBI Headquarters.

"I hope you're right, Jane," Bertram said. "Otherwise we will have scared him or her off and we'll never find out who it was."

Jane nodded quietly, realizing all too well what risks they were taking.

-x-x-x-x-x-

Later that afternoon, with Jane resting on the couch and the others trying to focus on their jobs, the office filled out slowly with all the CBI-employees. Around 3 p.m. all of them had arrived, as well as the medical team ordered to take blood tests of everyone.

As lists were being made and people were being checked, a growing suspicion had people eyeing each other, wondering what was going on and who they were looking for.

Finally, as the medical team had finished and left, promising their entire lab to get the results back asap, Bertram stepped in the center of the bullpen and addressed everyone.

"Listen up," he began. "I know that you are all very worried about what's going on, so I'll start with the good news and that is that the lab results and tests have shown that there is nothing serious going on within the CBI."

Immediately you could hear a needle drop on the floor. The agents stared floored at their boss, unable to understand what he was saying.

"Even though we had Agent Lisbon and her team trying to find out what was going on, we came to realize that we blew up the situation quite a bit. Kate Lomax died of natural causes; Tom Peterson had a weak heart. The unfortunate coincidence they both died at the same time had set things in motions that shouldn't have been questioned.

"Then why the blood tests?" a woman asked concerned. "If there was nothing going on?"

"The doctors did examine several of our people who weren't feeling well and discovered an aggressive bug that attacks your stomach and intestines. Because we're afraid there might be an epidemic within the Agency, we decided to check everyone and provide the right antibiotics. This is just a safety measure and the CBI pays the bill."

"What about Sarah?" another woman asked.

"Sarah, unfortunately died of this stomach bug, or so we believe. There is no way of verifying this now, as she was cremated. But the doctors believe that the stomach bug was left untreated and impacted her heart."

Agents looked at each other in disbelief or in relief. Agent Lisbon looked around, watching them carefully. Within a few seconds they started to talk amongst each other, most of them quite happy that the entire story had ended this way, not realizing the lies they had been fed.

Then Jane stepped forward, facing Bertram and said, "Sir, I have to object to this. There is no such thing as a coincidence. These people died because someone poisoned them. We need to investigate this further."

"Patrick," Bertram spoke calmly. "You were at the hospital, you were examined. You were treated for that same bug. Don't you believe what your doctors have said?"

"No, sir, I don't. I believe there is more going on."

"Then you must be running a fever because I've spoken to several doctors at the hospital and they all confirm the same story. There is no killer. There is no poison or whatever you believe there might be wrong. You were going on a wild goose chase."

"One that you started, sir, or did you forget?"

"Jane, I was dragged into this story just like you were. But there is no more story. We've been chasing ghosts. Now, if we can all go back to normal."

Jane turned to look at Lisbon. "Lisbon, you tell him."

Lisbon watched the two men without saying a single word. If she hadn't known the truth, she would have believed they were genuinely arguing too. She could see the reactions on the faces of the agents around them. Their boss, fighting with a hired consultant? With Patrick Jane, who had solved so many cases they couldn't keep count? Who did they have to believe?

"Jane, stop this nonsense, alright?" Bertram sighed. "I know that you've been chasing Red John for too long to see clearly now. Now stop it, you can't win this fight. It's over." Bertram looked around at his agents. "Everyone, thank you for coming to listen to this. Now I suggest that we all go home, rest up and come back tomorrow. Those of you who want to stick around, you're free to do so of course."

"Sir, please listen to me," Jane almost begged. "Don't do this. I'm asking you to further investigate this."

Bertram's voice was harsh as he eyed his consultant. "Stop it, Jane. Go upstairs and get some rest. You look like hell."

"I –" Jane shrugged. "Fine. Good night."

With that, he left the bullpen defeated and walked over to the elevator, pushing the button hard, smiling as he faced the elevator doors. He knew now who the killer was. He had seen him.

Bertram turned towards Lisbon, casting her an angry glare. "Agent Lisbon, I suggest that you keep an eye on your consultant. He's obviously not doing that great. I suggest you bring him back to the hospital in the morning if he still acts like this. We'll talk tomorrow. Goodnight everyone."

"Sir –"

"Tomorrow, Lisbon!" Bertram took the lead and grabbed his coat and belongings, setting the pace for everyone else to follow. They had agreed he would leave to give their possible killer a free hand.

Lisbon bit her tongue and decided against retorting, playing the game. "Yes, sir."

As she returned to her desk, she saw the bullpen slowly empty. A lot of agents shut off their laptops and picked up their things as they prepared to have an early night. Some returned to their desks and went back to work. She tried to spot anyone acting differently but couldn't. Van Pelt, Rigsby and Cho remained with her as she nodded gently with her head and lured them into the kitchen.

"Look," she said quietly. "I need you to monitor everyone who is still here. If Jane is right, our killer will be going after him tonight. Rigsby, go upstairs and stay with Jane."

"Okay boss."

"And stop calling me –"

"Boss, I know. Okay boss."

Lisbon turned towards Van Pelt and Cho. "Do your thing. Act as if nothing is wrong and keep an eye out. If he strikes, he'll strike tonight and we have to be here."

The other two nodded and returned to their desks, pretending to be working while casting glances around at the eight remaining agents who were still on the floor. Lisbon knew it was a long shot. For all they knew, the killer could have pretended to leave with the others, only to return in secret or to remain behind. This old building had a lot of ways to walk through it without being noticed.

_Please be okay, Jane_, Lisbon prayed silently, touching her necklace without even thinking of it, realizing the huge risks they were taking. She didn't like it one bit.

After that, peace and quiet returned to the bullpen. The only audible sounds were that of people typing and voices whispering in discussion. Nearly an hour later, Lisbon started to believe that nothing would happen and they had been wrong from the start. Part of her almost wanted to believe Bertram's story, even if she knew better.

And then suddenly, she started feeling weary, tired. She couldn't keep her eyes open. She looked up and saw her colleagues seated behind their desks, their faces as tired as hers, almost as if they were being … drugged.

Lisbon stood and stumbled over to Cho's desk. "Cho … Cho, I'm not feeling so well."

He looked at her and she could see his eyes roll back in their sockets. He slumped forward, face down on his desk. Lisbon turned in shock, only to find that all the doors to their office had been closed. All windows were shut. Who had done that? She had been working so intently that she hadn't noticed.

Dizziness overwhelmed her, she started to count agents … one agent was missing from his desk. She knew him, knew who he was. "Van Pelt," she whispered, trying to reach the red-headed agent who had passed out.

Lisbon smelled it then, a faint odor coming in through the air ducts. She fell to her knees, her hands on the floor, reaching up to grab her phone, dialing number 4, Bertram's speed dial.

_I should open the doors_. That was the last sane thought Lisbon had before everything just went black before her eyes.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter eight **

Patiently he had taken position outside the doors, watching them as they fell one by one.

He had gotten up fifteen minutes ago, excusing himself to go to the bathroom. He knew this building inside out, knew exactly where the ventilation system was and how he could manipulate it. Instead of sending his poison through the ducts, he had linked the second canister with narcotics, hooked it to the air vents and watched them pass out, one by one.

He had waited an hour, hoping and praying no one would return to the office. This was his chance and he knew it. Whatever screw up they had made in hospital would soon be corrected when they started to check everyone's blood. Tonight it had to be over.

He made it up to the attic floor where Patrick Jane was. Rigsby wouldn't be a problem.

Inside his room, Jane lay on his bed while Rigsby had taken the lounge chair, holding his gun on his lap. His hands were tapping impatiently on his legs.

"Rigsby, stop doing that," Jane spoke calmly with closed eyes.

"I haven't heard from her in about twenty minutes now. There's something wrong. There must be."

"Then call her."

Rigsby shot upright. "So you believe there's something wrong too?"

"I didn't say that. I said: If you're worried, call her."

"So you think I should call?"

"Rigsby, grab that phone and make the call, okay?"

Rigsby stood up, reached for his phone and called Van Pelt. He waited patiently, only to lose his patience when she wouldn't pick up. "She's not answering."

"Then call Cho."

Rigsby had already chosen Cho's number. "He's not answering either."

Jane sat up straight. "And Lisbon?"

"No answer."

"Okay, go downstairs and take a look. They might be having a cup of coffee."

"Not together, and they always take their phones. But I can't leave you alone. Lisbon said not to lose you out of my sight."

"I'll be fine for five minutes. Just hurry up. I'm sure it's nothing."

"Okay." Rigsby walked to the door. "Stay put and don't open it for anyone."

"Yes, dad."

Rigsby closed Jane's attic door behind him and headed for the elevator. Only to be knocked on the back of the head before he could turn to see who hit him. He sunk to the ground like a ton of bricks, without as much as a sigh.

His attacker stepped over him and waited, listening for noises. It was eerily quiet up here. Perfect.

Jane stood up now that he was alone and walked over to the small closet he used for his office clothes. Rummaging through his wardrobe, his fingers carefully touched the fabric of his suits. He leaned forward, smelling on them. They smelled the same as ever: Of dry cleaning. He liked that smell. And yet something was off this time.

He closed his closet gently and walked to one of the walls of his attic, touching the paint. On his fingertips, nothing remained. The walls seemed to be the same as usual. And yet it felt as if there was an extra thin layer of … something, on those walls.

He closed his eyes, taking in the air that came in through the ventilators that ran throughout the building. He smelled nothing. And yet it seemed as if they were pushing in more than air.

It was all around him. He knew that once he started putting two and two together. The break-in at Kate Lomax's house, the break-in at his attic he hadn't told Lisbon about. When he had noticed his door being opened, he had gone through his belongings and found nothing missing. But he knew someone had come in. He had smelled a faint aftershave, a smell he had also smelled in the bullpen. Tonight, he had smelled that scent again, on someone standing not too far away from him. It was of one of the four agents who had been examined at the hospital, the one being released because they hadn't found anything in his system. This agent had claimed to have been sick too, but it was just a ruse to get into the hospital and find out what the doctors knew.

As soon as Jane learned his blood had been squeaky clean, he had known it was him, but now to prove it. Jane remembered many small things now, all adding up. The man had been in their kitchen every morning, not to grab a cup of coffee but to listen to conversations. He had watched Jane and Kim Lomax together, always standing away from them, pretending to be grabbing a Donut or a biscuit. He loved vanilla/chocolat biscuits as well, had offered his own stash to her, poisoned, of course.

Jane sat down on a chair by the window and looked outside, at the clear night air, filled with beautiful stars. What a sight it was for his sore eyes. If he hadn't felt such a headache, he would have enjoyed it.

"I know you're there, Ivan," he spoke gently. "The game is over. I'm tired."

At first there was no sound but then the door to his attic room opened and closed again immediately. Jane turned on his chair and looked straight into the eyes of Ivan Jackson, CBI-agent, pointing a gun at him. Jane rose quietly, moving forward towards his colleague. "Hello Ivan. Have a seat."

"Jane." Ivan moved forward, holding his gun before him.

"Lower the gun, Ivan. I'm too weak to fight you. You could kill me in a heartbeat. Is Rigsby alright?"

Ivan lowered his gun slowly and tucked it away underneath his jacket. "He's going to have a headache by morning. Well, actually, all of them are."

"What did you do to them?"

"Tempered with the air vents. Don't worry, they're only asleep."

"Sit down." Jane pointed invitingly at the small table with two chairs as if they were friends. "Do you want some poison-free tea?"

Ivan slowly sunk down expectantly, shaking his head.

"Well, you don't mind if I have a cup, do you?" Jane walked to a separate table he used as kitchen area, let the kettle boil and returned with a hot cup of tea, his hands shaking as he held the cup. That didn't go unnoticed to Ivan, who visibly enjoyed Jane's pain.

"So," Jane said, sitting down carefully, wincing at every move. "You've poisoned this entire department, one by one, just waiting to see who will succumb first. Just for the kick of it?"

"How did you figure out it was me?"

"It was the thermos that gave you away. That, and your aftershave."

"The – my thermos?"

"You make your own coffee, don't you? You bring it with you in a thermos, from home. I didn't put two and two together at first because we didn't have a clue we were being poisoned of course, but when I started connecting the dots, that came to mind. And you should really change your aftershave when you break into someone's attic. Do you know how long that smell lasted here?"

"Always the funny man, hey Jane?" Ivan snarled, upset by Jane's behavior.

"Anyhow, the thermos did it. That's how you didn't get infected, like the rest of us, which came out when they drew your blood at the hospital. And when Lisbon has the test results back from everyone's blood samples, they will confirm that you will be the only agent out there who wasn't poisoned."

"I know," Ivan said. "But why did Bertram tell that bug story to everyone?"

"That was a ruse, Ivan. We wanted everyone out of there so you would come and kill me."

Ivan pulled up an eyebrow. "You _wanted_ me to come?"

"Of course. How else to prove that you are one sick son of a bitch?"

Jane's killer leaned back. "So if you have it all figured out, tell me how I did the poisoning."

"You did it two-ways. You poisoned the water in the kitchen, adding more or less whenever you wanted to. Of course you helped matters a bit further by manipulating the air vents too. You did it very thoroughly and cleverly, targeting your victims. You added poison to Kate's daily biscuits, probably tampered with Janet Gray's perfume. And you poisoned Tom Peterson's cigarettes, knowing he was a chain smoker. You broke into Kate's house and tampered with her clothes and whatever else you could get your hands on, wanting her dead really quickly. And then you broke into my attic and did the same here."

Ivan relaxed as he leaned backwards. "I actually poisoned your kettle too. Added some extra lead on the inside walls. You must have noticed you were getting sicker."

"Why, Ivan?"

"Patrick Jane," Ivan spoke slowly. "You really don't know why, do you? You found out it was me but you don't know why or who I am."

"I thought you were a colleague. I've seen you around here for almost two years."

"I was your colleague. And before that, I was a father and a husband. Just like you. And I lost them, just like you. You, Patrick Jane, are _my _Red John."

Jane stared at him surprised and spoke slowly. "Who was your wife? What did I do to her?"

"Her name was Greta Mayes. Does that ring a bell?"

Jane's weariness didn't prevent his sharp mind from putting two and two together. He knew exactly who she was. She brought back memories he would never forget. "Yes," Jane said slowly. "I know who she was."

"Then you know why I'm here and why I want my revenge."

"Yes," Jane responded quietly, blinking as he battled fatigue and nausea, knowing he didn't have much time left. "And I don't blame you, Ivan. But it doesn't make it right to kill innocent people."

"How many people have you killed in your quest to find Red John, Patrick? What's wrong? Do your eyes hurt?"

"You know that they do. Tell me what you poisoned us with. The doctors couldn't figure it out. At least tell me what is killing me."

"It's called Antimony, a very strong lead that, if administered in large quantities, causes sickness, dizziness, nausea, heart failure, death."

"Why did you target these three people?"

"Because you cared for them and they cared for you."

"There are others who care for me," Jane whispered.

"Yes, there are. And they were lucky I didn't choose them. But I did that for a reason."

"What reason is that, Ivan?"

"I would love to see the look on Lisbon's face when she finds out that you are dead, knowing she was part of your death; I hate her for the way she sees you, the way she defends you and always stands up for you. I want see her and her damned team suffer, knowing they came too late. You should consider yourself lucky, Jane, that you died instead of them. I spared their lives, especially for you so they can spend the rest of their lives looking for me. Isn't that considerate of me?"

Jane smiled slowly. "Revenge doesn't bring satisfaction, Ivan. It just brings more distress. It kills you from the inside and leaves nothing but emptiness. I just thought you should know that."

"No, but we both know that it can also taste so sweet."

Ivan stood as Patrick Jane felt every hair of his body rise, praying silently someone would come to save him. But no one came and he knew he had lost the game. He was panting, unable to catch his breath as his stomach clenched and his heart pounded like crazy.

"Now, I have to get going, Mr. Jane, but I have a final present for you." Ivan grabbed him by the arm, shoving him to the ground, holding him down easily as he lingered over him. Then he grabbed a small vial from his jacket pocket, opened the cap and placed his hand on Jane's chin, going to force open his mouth. Jane's hands struggled to fight him off, only to have Ivan straddle him, pinning his arms and hands to the ground."

"No," Jane said. "You don't have to do this. I'm already dead."

"Just making sure, Patrick."

Jane was too weak to move another inch as Ivan poured the content of the vial into his mouth, closing it and preventing him from spitting it out.

"That's a good boy. Just swallow it. It'll make your death quicker and less painful." Ivan nodded contently as Jane swallowed, feeling the liquid slide into his throat, going directly for its target.

"It's all over you, Jane, and there is nothing you can do. Death will come soon now. I poisoned your walls, your clothes, your floor, your table, your chairs, your bed, your goddamned tea and your air. You've been breathing it in for days without knowing it. I want you to do die a painful death. So no matter how much you try to escape, you can't. And I hope that you remember my wife and know that you have brought this on yourself."

Ivan rose slowly and left, just like that, with no one to stop him, leaving Patrick Jane alone in his attic room to die. Outside, in the hallway, he stepped over Rigsby, walked calmly to the elevator, pushed the down button to the ground floor. He had expected to walk outside on a breeze. Instead, he found himself staring into the barrel of a gun, seeing Lisbon's face behind it. And behind here stood Gale Bertram, her team and agents with a major headache.

"If you move one muscle, you'll die," Lisbon snapped. "Where are Jane and Rigsby?"

Ivan slowly put his hands in the air and smiled. "You're too late, Agent Lisbon."

"I don't think so," Bertram said. "Paramedics are arriving right now. Shut up, Ivan."

Lisbon shoved him aside angrily, into the arms of two agents, stepping into the elevator with Bertram, Cho and Van Pelt, pushing the button to the attic floor frantically.

Patrick Jane had been in dire situations before and the one thing that always helped him was to stay calm. He let the dizzy spell pass over him as he lay on the floor, allowed his body to relax and forced his breathing to become calm again. He opened and closed his eyes as he stared at one particular stain on the ceiling and focused on that. Then he shoved two fingers in his throat, turned to his side and vomited.

Bile, liquid and tea came out but he knew he couldn't have had everything. After a few seconds the pounding of his heart subsided and he could actually feel cold sweat all over his body, sending him into a shivering spell. It alerted him, revived his will to live. Slowly he sat up, realizing that nobody would come to help him. He would have to save himself.

His hands leaned on the cold floor and he forced himself to take shallow breaths, knowing now that the poison was everywhere. He grabbed a table leg and pulled himself up, focusing on his wedding ring as focal point. There he was, standing up. Next move was towards the door.

He made his way very slowly towards the exit, shuffling like an old man would, opening the door calmly. There were about twenty steps to take towards the elevator. All he had to do was to take them, push the damned button and make it downstairs.

Slowly, one by one, he took these tiny steps, making sure he didn't overdo himself, walking them like a patient would do. His finger pushed the button; then he leaned over and vomited more bile, barely missing his shoes.

As the elevator door slid open, he fell forward, straight into her arms.

"Lisbon," he said hoarsely, holding tight. "Lisbon."

She couldn't have heard him at all as he silently pleaded for her help but suddenly she was there and she wasn't alone, grasping him tightly, allowing Bertram and Cho to take over, preventing him from falling on his face, lowering him gently to the ground just outside of the elevator. She had been coming towards him as he had been trying to find his way towards her.

He could see Van Pelt rushing towards Rigsby who was waking up with one hell of a headache.

"Jane, we're here," Lisbon said. "Stay with us. You'll be fine."

Bertram grabbed his phone. "Where are those damned paramedics?"

"Antimony," Jane whispered. "T – Tea, … air … clothes … vial – everything's poisoned with Antimony."

"We know, Jane. The coroner was able to analyze it. They have medication ready. You'll make it, Jane. Come on."

"My stomach. Pump my stomach."

"Jane. Just stay with us," Lisbon said, her hand resting on his face, patting it gently. She stroked his hair and he allowed himself to rest into her arms.

Then he slid away into darkness.


	9. Chapter 9

Well, here it is, the final chapter to this story!

Thanks again to everyone who have reviewed this story, thanks for the many private messages and comments. I am truly happy that you enjoy my stories and hope to continue posting!

**Chapter nine : Epilogue**

Less than a week later, the CBI-building was again thriving with activity as if nothing had ever happened. Life went on, even with a mad man trying to poison the entire staff. Every single air duct in the building had been checked and cleaned, all traces removed from the poison.

The water supply system had been cleaned; a new coffee machine had been brought in to make sure that nothing remained of the Antimony. The building was fully cleaned from top to bottom.

The first day Patrick Jane set foot in the building again, he was greeted by his colleagues. "Welcome back, Jane. How are you? You doing okay?"

He nodded at everyone, spoke with them and thanked them for their concern.

No one mentioned the fact they had been being poisoned because of him. They didn't know the reasons behind it all and never would. Ivan had kept his mouth shut since his arrest and would not admit to anything.

As Lisbon guided him to his favorite coach, Jane sat down gingerly and eyed the bullpen. "I've missed this place," he said as Lisbon sat down behind her desk.

"We've missed you," she smiled, opening her laptop.

Lisbon was the only one who knew the truth about Ivan. When he woke up in hospital, Jane had told her what had happened to his wife and daughter.

"She was one of my clients," Jane said. "Coming from a very rich family, lots of money to spend, very gullible, very nervous. She spent a lot of money on me, I have to admit. She always suspected her husband from cheating on her and came to me for confirmation that he was or wasn't loyal to her. I didn't know his name or who he was. I convinced her that her husband wouldn't cheat on her, not with that amount of money on their bank account. After all, he was poor, she had the cash and he had signed a prenup. So in my eyes, reading her nervousness as foolis, that was enough to believe that this wouldn't happen and I persuaded her to cut him some slack in order to save the marriage. But one night she came home and caught him in bed with her cousin. That blew up whatever self-respect she still had and so she decided to punish him with the one thing he adored in life: His daughter."

Lisbon listened quietly as Jane fiddled with the bed sheets, staring down at his hands as he always did when he remembered his past.

"She took the child out, drowned it in the pond and then drowned herself, leaving a note for him to blame him for ruining her life. In the morning he found them floating in the water. I didn't know about all of this until I read about it by chance days later in the newspaper. That was about one year before Red John killed my family. Last thing I heard he didn't inherit a single penny as the prenup had a clause in it about adultery. His cousin had confessed to the affair. I always knew I was blamed because I - according to the family - was the reason she went into shock when she found out about the affair. After all, I had persuaded her to give him more freedom and he had abused that. He must have been brooding about me for a very long time."

"And since you didn't know him, you had no way of knowing he was spying on you at the CBI, planning his revenge."

Jane nodded. "He had changed his name into her family name when he married her, because that name opened many doors his didn't. According to the police, when she died and he lost everything, he returned to his old name. But since I had never met him, that wouldn't have mattered. My past has killed before, Lisbon. I hate that."

"I know, Jane. But that was your past and you are making it up now by helping people out. You should be proud of that."

Lisbon knew her consultant well enough to know he would be brooding over these events for some time. Yet she also knew it wouldn't stop him from returning to the CBI and continuing his work. His quest wasn't done yet and despite whatever feelings he might have over all of this, it wouldn't change that. Unfortunately, when Ivan chose to kill co-workers and friends, he did leave a deep impact. That was something Jane had to deal with by himself. The only thing they could do as a team was to persuade him he was one of them and that they cared.

That morning, as Jane returned for the first time, she watched him get up and head into the kitchen, following from a distance. He walked straight over to the fire to grab his trusted kettle, only to find it gone.

The look on his face was one of hurt and disappointment, until he turned and saw her standing there with a brand new kettle, a big red bowtie tied to it with a small card reading "Happy you're back."

"Surprise," she smiled. "We got a new coffee machine; you're getting a new kettle."

"Teresa Lisbon, you warm my heart," he replied, taking his new kettle from her and gingerly caressing it. "She's a beauty."

"She?" Lisbon laughed. "Are you going to give her a name?"

He smiled. "I always do."

He placed the kettle on the fire, filled up with water, waiting for that typical whistling sound. And when he had made that perfect cup of tea, he closed his eyes and savored the taste.

The End


End file.
